"Family Happiness" by Leo Tolstoy

I am reading The Death of Ivan Ilych and Other Short Stories by Leo Tolstoy. The first short story in the book is "Family Happiness"--wow! What a profound and yet depressing story. I think in its day it was supposed to be some kind of social commentary about the role of women in society, but to me it was an eerily accurate portrayal of the way "love" blossoms in a woman (and to a lesser degree in a man, too).

"Family Happiness" is a short story from the perspective of a 17-year-old Russian girl (Marya Alexandrovna, aka Masha) who falls in love with an older friend of the family (Sergei) shortly after the death of her mother (her father having previously died, as well). The story traces their courtship and early days of their marriage until they have a young child. The depressing part of the story is the first-person narrative of Masha's thoughts on love.

At the beginning of the story, Masha is young, naive, and hopelessly romantic. She has dreams of her future husband sweeping her off her feet and carrying her off to eternal bliss ("wild delight," as she refers to it). She marries Sergei (the older friend of the family) and they move off to the country. The two of them live a happy, quaint, newliwed life, but she gets restless and wants to move to the big city. When they move, Masha gets active in the urban social scene, but Sergei prefers to stay at home and stick to his business. Over time, the two of them drift apart and Masha realizes that her childhood dreams of "wild delight" aren't going to happen. (The urban social scene brings her to the brink of an affair.)

At the end of the story, Masha and Sergei get into an argument over what went wrong with their relationship and where their newliwed bliss went. Sergei, the voice of wisdom, blames it on time. He says that love changes over time, and it's no use lamenting over the past--what's gone is gone. Masha has a hard time believing this, but as the two part, she sees her infant son and realizes that this is where she will find the love she wants. The story ends, "With that day ended my love-story with my husband, the old feeling became a precious memory never to return; but the new feeling of love for my children and the father of my children laid the foundation of another life, happy in quite a different way, which I am still living up to the present moment." (Note how she no longer loved Sergei as her "husband" but as "the father of my children.")

Now, I am not a woman, and neither is Leo Tolstoy, but there is something sadly true about the theme of this story. I think both men and women are looking for "wild delight," though we might define it differently. Does anyone ever find it? Should we stop looking? Has God created us with this desire so that we will long for the kingdom of God--a place where we are perfectly loved? I don't know.

This is the first story I have ever read by Tolstoy. Maybe I'm way off base, but I feel that his narration from a female perspective was very believable. I think he's got some good insights into the human condition and I am looking forward to reading the next story, 'The Death of Ivan Ilych."

Soul Cravings by Erwin McManus

Every once in a while I read a book that reminds me why I am a Christian. Erwin Raphael McManus' book, Soul Cravings, is the latest book to do just that for me. It isn't so much that he gave me a profound thought of what it means to follow Jesus, or that he inspired me with a tale of a life lived for Christ, but that he got into my head and made me ask, like Peter, "Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life."

In the book, McManus draws on three soul cravings--intimacy, destiny, and meaning--and shows how these cravings in our soul point us to God. Each section is broken into twenty or so 2–3 pages chapters, so you can easily read one chapter a day and spread the book out over several months.

McManus' book was a great reminder to me of why I believe what I believe. I like to read stuff written from perspectives other than my own. I suscribe to atheist podcasts so that I am informed about the latest arguments against what I believe. I understand that Christianity is not an airtight philosophical system--there are some holes that are not easy to seal. At the same time, I think that the same can be said about any religious or philosophical system out there, and I have found Christianity to be the most satisfying of all of them. I haven't been impressed with any of the philosophical "proofs" for God's existence, and I certainly haven't been convinced by any of the "proofs" for His non-existence. I think that I am a Christian because deep down in my soul, I just know there is a God out there. That answer may not be too impressive to a modernist, but I think it's the most honest answer someone can give for why they believe what they believe.

In his book, Orthodoxy, G. K. Chesterton wrote, "The man who cannot believe his senses, and the man who cannot believe anything else, are both insane, but their insanity is proved not by any error in their argument, but by the manifest mistake of their whole lives." It's amazing how a brilliant person with sound logical reasons for believing he believes can prove himself wrong because his life screams "I have no idea what I'm talking about." I think the opposite is true of Christ. His sanity was proven by the manifest "truth" of his life. There is something about Jesus Christ that makes me say, "He was right."

Like McManus, I find the most satisfying answer in my quest for intimacy, destiny, and meaning, in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I believe that I am a spiritual being, created by a spiritual God. I believe that this world is not as it should be. I believe that Jesus Christ came to earth from the Father, that He showed us the way that we are supposed to live, that he died to overcome the power that death has over the world through sin, and that God raised him from the dead to vindicate him as Christ and Lord. I believe that God is reconciling the world now through Jesus, and that the church has a major role as God's redeeming influence on the world.

Enough of my soap box. Thank you, Erwin McManus, for writing such a great book. Buy it.

Church, State, Christ, and Culture Revisited

Yesterday, I was talking to my brother-in-law, Reid (who doesn't read this blog), about the issues I addressed in my last two blog entries. He pointed out that my two positions contradict each other, and I agree. I just don't know how I would change what I believe. In the post, "Christ and Culture," I said that I believed that God is building his kingdom through the church and that we should redeem culture. In the post, "Separation of Church and State," I was kind of critical of the American church for surrendering our influence in politics. Without political teeth, the church is powerless to make any real change.

So, Reid and I talked about a number of issues, what we think the church's approach should be, and how those approaches fit into my two models. The issues we discussed were: The International Justice Mission's work in southeast Asia freeing sex slaves, the civil rights movement in America, abortion in America, and John Calvin's Geneva.

We agreed on most issues. On the one hand, we were both kind of apalled at John Calvin's disaster in Geneva, in which he tried to establish a state that was run by God's law so that adultery was punishable by death. We both agreed that it is inappropriate to try to regulate non-Christians by kingdom ethics. On the other hand, we both applauded the work that IJM is doing and the work that Martin Luther King, Jr., et al did in America in the 1960s.

The issue that got us talking was abortion. We both agreed that abortion is wrong and that nobody should have an abortion, that churches should discourage their members from having abortions, that picketing abortion clinics was more harmful than helpful, and that agencies like Care Net were the most effective way to reduce the number of abortions in America. (Care Net is a crisis pregnancy center. They give financial, emotional, educational, and spiritual support to pregnant women who are considering their options.)

We weren't sure about the extent to which the church should engage the issue of abortion. I thought that abortion was an IJM-type issue. It's an injustice, and we have the responsibility to step in and stop it. As long as abortion in America is legal, the church should be vocal about outlawing it. Reid was not so sure. He doesn't like the way that American evangelicals push the abortion issue in politics. He thinks that this has turned a lot of people away from the church. I would have to agree.

Maybe abortion is a Calvin's Geneva issue--outlawing it would be requiring non-Christians to act like Christians. While we're at it, we might want to outlaw adultery and make tithing mandatory. I haven't given up my stance on our response to abortion, but this has at least made me rethink my justification of that stance. What is the difference between an agency that says "sex slave trafficking is wrong and should be outlawed" and one that says "adultery is wrong and should be a capitol offense"? Aren't they both legislating Christian ethics? Why do I support one of those propositions and not the other? Can I justify my position philosophically/theologically?

I don't know yet.

Christ and Culture

I am reading H. Richard Niebuhr's book, Christ and Culture, right now. Wow. I should have read this a long time ago. The book has had a dramatic effect on the way people view Christ and culture, so I have heard a lot of Niebuhr's conclusions second-hand before. But still, he said it better than anyone else since.

I am reading through his models (admittedly, I am only in chapter 1) and I can clearly see where different traditions fit on his scale of Christ against, of, above, in paradox with, and the transformer of culture. I was raised in the "Christ against culture" paradigm--part of the General Association of Regular Baptists. In this system "the World" was out to get us and we needed to withdraw into our little holy huddle where we were safe. I think this model is alive and well in the Christian music scene. If U2 sings a song it's "worldly," but if a Christian band covers it, it is suddeny "safe." (Why do we need Christian music?)

Somewhere along the line I left the Christ against culture model, but I don't know where I have landed. I like a lot of the "Christ and culture in paradox" model because it closely resembles the thought of a lot of the New Testament writers. When you read the Gospel of John, Jesus has come "from above," His kingdom is "not of this world," and he refuses to pray for the world. I think there has to be serious merit given to the idea that there is a "two kingdoms" (of Satan and of God) motif in the New Testament. However, I disagree with Luther's conclusions that Christians are forever simultaneously a saint and a sinner. I don't think he gives enough weight to the change in nature that occurs when someone is redeemed by God. Paul says, "He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and caused us to stand in the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" (Col 1:13-14). It seems like our citizenship has changed.

So, that brings up Niebuhr's "Christ the transformer of culture" model, similar to the thought of Augustine and John Calvin. I haven't read this chapter yet, but I think I know where he is going. This is the realized eschatology, the kingdom is now, amilennial view of history. Again, I think there is a lot of merit to this view. Certainly, there was a drastic change in history when Jesus was raised from the dead, and the kingdom of God has been inaugurated. But does this mean that the world is God's kingdom and that we should militantly try to conform culture to the will of Christ? Yes and no.

Christ and culture was written in 1951, and I wonder if it needs updated. While previous New Testament scholarship settled either for a "fully realized eschatology" or a "fully future eschatology," most scholars today look at the kingdom of God in an already/not yet way. Certainly, the kingdom of God has been inaugurated, but the kingdom of Satan is still alive and well. The kingdom of God will not be consummated until the future, when Christ returns. We will always live in tension between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of this world until the consummation of history.

So, I want to combine the "Christ in paradox with culture" model and the "Christ the transformer of culture" models. There are two kingdoms on earth--the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Satan/this world. Satan has already been defeated and he is on the way out. God is transforming our world, and he has invited us to be a part of it.

What is "the kingdom of God"? The kingdom of God is the church to the extent that it models God's rule on earth. (The church is not synonymous with the kingdom of God, it only equals the kingdom of God to the extent that it models God's rule.) I think God is building his kingdom through the church. That's where the transformation happens. People don't change until they have become a part of the kingdom of God. So, we need to be careful not to force the kingdom culture on people who have not joined it. At the same time, we need to be in constant dialogue with cultue of "the World," redeeming it for the kingdom of God.

Maybe that's where Christian music comes in. It's music that has been redeemed. (But please stop marketing it as "safe for the whole family.")

Separation of Church and State

There has kind of been a renaissance of interest in social justice among American evangelicals over the past few years. For the past 20 or so years, evangelicals have stereotypically been interested only in issues such as abortion, God in school, laws against homosexuality, and regulation of the media. Typically they have been fiscally conservative and voted Republican.

The tide seems to be changing when it comes to you younger evangelicals. Most young people seem to be more interested in the issues that the previous generation surrendered to the Democrats and "liberals" (environmental issues, racism, etc.). I tend to fall somewhere in the middle.

Anyway, with the presidential election upon us, I have been thinking a lot about what the church's role should be in politics. A church cannot endorse a particular party or candidate at the risk of losing their tax-exempt status, but individual Christians have often been very vocal in national politics to try to rally others around their candidate.

Generally, I have ben very turned off from these movements. It seems like they do more harm then good. You mention groups like the Moral Majority or the Christian Coalition and most people just roll their eyes. There is a real distatste in this country for groups trying to "legislate morality" by pushing their religious agenda at the polls. Now, with younger evangelicals typically taking a more leftish stance on a lot of issues, these groups are even more suspect--they're pretty much ridiculed in most "emerging churches." I have tended to agree--the evangelical alliance with the Republican party is a bad idea and the marriage between the two has led to more problems than solutions.

However, in the last few months I have started to question this judgment. I was reading A Testament to Freedom, a collection of sermons, letters, and essays written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer (one of my heroes), and I came across a letter he had written while staying in America. Bonhoeffer was used to the German system where church and state operated together so that pastorates were government appointed. He noticed that Americans took pride in the notion of separation of church in state, and he wasn't sure that this was a good idea. He said that when the church separates itself from the state, it loses it's influence to make change. In other words, the church in America is emasculated from making any real change in social issues. (This is what Hillary Clinton was getting at when she said that Martin Luther King, Jr. did a lot for civil rights in America, but it took Lyndon Johnson to enact into law the things that King preached. Without the state's intervention, the church's cries for justice would have been just noise.)

I think that Bonhoeffer was on to something. One of the main aspects of my job is getting the church involved in the community around us. I believe that God has special concern for the poor and disenfranchised and that it is the church should be leading the way in standing up for social justice. But how do we do that in a politcal system in which we have no power to make real change? We can continue to alleviate the symptoms of poverty with things like soup kitchens, but we will never be able to solve the causes of poverty without intervening in politics.

So, all that to say that I am second guessing whether the Christians-turned-politicians in the religious right were that far off of the mark after all. Even if I disagree with a lot of their policy decisions, I can't criticize someone who decides that they want to put their faith to action in a way that will be able to generate real change.

Maybe the church needs to form a new organization that does not line up with the Republicans or the Democrats, but with the Gospel. Maybe we need to be more vocal in challenging the Republicans to hold corporations accountable for their actions and the wages they pay their workers. Maybe we need to challenge Democrats to see abortion as a social justice issue. Maybe we need to challenge both parties to find a way for all Americans to afford basic health care.

Regardless, at least we need to vote.

Prayer, Meditation, Confession, and Repentance

It seems like ages since I have posted in this blog. (That is because it has been ages since I posted in this blog.)

Back in October I started experimenting with what it takes to change. I feel that the Christian culture spits out too many easy answers when it comes to spiritual transformation, and I don't want to be a part of that. I was teaching through the Book of Colossians and dealing with the topic of spiritual transformation, and I wanted to make sure that the opinions that I offered had some substance to them. I didn't want to say, "This is what should be true based on what I read in the Bible," but rather "This is what is true for me based on what I have implemented in my life." The theory that I worked with was that spiritual transformation occured through spiritual disciplines and connection to the spiritual comunity. Specifically, I wanted to test the effectiveness of prayer, meditation on the Scriptures, and accountability on producing real change. Not coincidentally, I think that "accountability" is just a modern word for the ancient disciplines of confession and repentance (also huge parts of the messages that John the Baptist, Jesus, and the Apostles preached).

My theory worked. I was able to change something about myself--something that had been bothering me for a long time that I had not been able to change. After my last blog post, I found an accountability partner and decided that I was really going to change (repentance). Then, I met weekly with this guy to talk about how things were going (confession).

Its a shame that we are so hesitant to be vulnerable with the Christian community because repentance and confession are integral to spiritual transformation.

Now that I have a system in place for confession and repentance, I really want to grow in other areas of spiritual discipline as well. As I mature as a follower of Jesus, I would like to have a stronger prayer life. I don't know what it is about me, but it is a struggle to slow down and spend real time with God in prayer. I think my challenge for the next few months is to develop in this area.

On a side note, I hope to keep this site updated with my thoughts. I have a lot on my mind right now. However, before I get in to that I thought it would be helpful to include an update about my spiritual transformation theory.

Community and Spiritual Transformation

I am starting an eight-week experiment on spiritual transformation. At the root of my study is the question, "How do people change?" I am in the middle of a sermon series called Roots: Understanding our Spiritual Heritage, in which I am teaching through the Book of Colossians. I have divided the book into four topics that I think form the roots of our faith--Christology, mission, transformation, and community. The last message I did was the second of three weeks of transformation. The final transformation message will happen on December 30.

I have been wrestling with the question of spiritual transformation for some time now. I have talked about how not to be transformed (i.e. legalism) and the theology of transformation (i.e. the already but not yet), but I haven't settled the question of the nuts and bolts of change. When I share this, I don't just want to present a theological expose of how I think people should change based on what I read in the Bible, but I want to share real life wisdom on how people do change based on my spiritual experiences. As always, I am more interested in praxis than I am in theory.

I believe that spiritual transformation is just that--spiritual. I starts with God and happens by grace through faith. Perhaps that is what Paul means in Galatians 3:2–3, "I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" (NIV) On the other hand, Bonhoeffer has convinced me that "faith" is not equivalent to passive "belief," so some kind of human resonse is necessary for transformation. Belief is certainly involved in faith, but the two are not identical. I love what Bonhoeffer wrote in The Cost of Discpleship, "Only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes." I think Paul also recognized a tension between spiritual enablement and human response when he wrote in Philippians 2:12–13, "continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." (NIV)

There is a tension in spiritual transformation between will and grace. My question is, "What is the difference between what Paul wanted the Philippians to do in Phil 2:12–13 and what he criticized the Galatians for doing in Gal 3:2–3?" For this, I think the works on Paul by James Dunn and N.T. Wright are helpful. The "works" that the Galatians relied on were the ethnic identity markers of circumcision and obedience to the Mosaic Law. The "faith" that Paul encouraged was alllegiance to Jesus and the gospel message. The faith/works distinction is not between belief and action, but between allegiance to the ethnic identity markers of the Mosaic law and allegiance to Christ.

So, what is the practical outworking of faith? First, there is a necessity of trusting in God (I think this is what Paul means by justification by faith). Also, I think that it is also important to be immersed in the spiritual community (perhaps this is one aspect of what it means to be "in Christ," i.e. "in" His body, the church).

I have developed a philosophy of what I think it takes to be transformed. On the one hand, I think it takes prayer and meditation on God's word. These two disciplines are indespensible to Christian spirituality. Also, I think it requires involvement in the spiritual community, especially through confession and repentance. I think James was getting at something when he wrote, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed." (James 5:16 NIV) I have found that the significant spiritual changes that I have made in my life have occurred when: (1) I decided that I truly wanted to change and I resolved to do so, and (2) I found accountability for my resolution. It is interesting that these resemble the spiritual disciplines of repentance (1) and confession (2). Maybe the ancients knew what they were talking about.

I plan to teach on December 30 that repentance and confession are the keys to our part of spiritual change. Before I do that, I am going to find an accountability partner and test the theory on myself over the next 8 weeks. I will post on the blog how everything turns out.

Coming Soon: LakewoodChurch.tv and Willow Creek Fellowship

God really spoke to me (careful now) today about the heart of ministry and about spiritual leadership. It started when I opened up this month's Outreach magazine, which features the 100 largest and fastest growing churches in America. I figured Lakewood church in Houston would be the largest (twice as large as Willow Creek, the second largest), but I was looking for some trends in which churches were growing the fastest--especially in our area. Surprisingly, Mars Hill is not the fastest growing church in our area--Champions Center in Tacoma is. I've never heard of it.

One of the things that I noticed in the list of fastest growing churches was the absence of denominations. Most of the fastest growing churches were either non-denominational or Southern Baptist. Hardly any of the other denominations had a major presence on the list. However, the list also had a category for "# of sites" as most megachurches have planted multiple sites to better suit the volume of traffic trying to get to their campuses.

It's interesting that most of these megachurches are hesitant to align with a denomination, but they are eager to plant satellite campuses. Its almost as if they are starting their own denominations. Instead of having First Baptist Church of South Barrington and First Baptist Church of Chicago, now we have Willow Creek South Barrington and Willow Creek Chicago. It's essentially the same thing, except that the unifying factors are style, philosophy of ministry, and (often) a dynamic leader, instead of common beliefs and practices. It's almst as if we like the feeling of having several churches working together, but we don't like the idea of having to submit to the rules and beliefs of some denomination.

Prediction: Soon there will only be a handful of megachurches with campuses all over the country. They will drown out all of the independant churches much in the way that Walmart puts independant stores out of business. (Maybe we will even see some ecclesial mergers, so that some day we will have to choose from two church conglomerates--LakewoodChurch.tv and Willow Creek Fellowship.)

I am reading a collection of Deitrich Bonhoeffer's works, and today I read a portion from Life Together. Bonhoeffer wrote, "Nobody is too good for the lowest service. Those who worry about the loss of time entailed by such small, external acts of helpfulness are usually taking their own work too seriously." (Deitrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, in A Testament to Freedom, edited by Geffrey B. Kelly and F. Burton Nelson [San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1995], 338.) God kind of reminded me today what spiritual leadership is all about--it's about serving people.

I don't have a problem with the megachurches or with their satellite campuses, but I wonder if in all of that there is evidence that we have lost the focus as Christian leaders. Perhaps we are taking our own work too seriously--as if God can't use other churches in other neighborhoods to reach other people. We feel the need to plant another version of our church in that neighborhood so that the people there can be reached "more effectively." Maybe we've forgotten that ministry is about serving people, not expanding our influence.

I can't speak for others, and I don't mean to question the motives of people I don't know. But I feel that God spoke to me today--that He doesn't want me to be a part of that culture. I want to be a part of a community that cares for me. I want to figure out what it means to be a genuine follower of Jesus Christ. I want to do a good job of leading the people around me. I want to be a servant. I want to know God--and to help others know Him, too. As for the rest of the pomp and circumstance? Eh, I don't think I'm interested.

"Father, thank you for reminding me today why I do what I do. I thank you for the community in which You have placed me. I pray that you would watch over me--that you would surround me with a community of people who will hold me accountable to godly priorities. I pray that I would use my gifts with reckless abandon, that I would not get lazy or content with the status quo. But at the same time I pray that I would I would not lose track of people in the process--that innovation, change, relevance, buzz, or growth would never become my gods. I thank you for the models of my ancient spiritual mentors--for Jesus, who hid Himself when the spotlight was turned on him; for Paul, who learned to trust others to continue the ministries that he himself started; for John, who learned to love people rather than be adored by them. I thank you also for the godly men and women with whom you have surrounded me today who show me how to live like you intended. I ask that you never let me get in the way of Your doing something great. Amen."

Spirituality Update

A couple of days ago, I posted about my desire to find true spirituality. I thought I might take today to update about what I've found.

I am starting to recover the feeling that God speaks to us in prayer. The first class that I took in seminary was on revelation--not the book of the Bible, but on the process by which God reveals Himself to mankind. In this class we learned that God always reveals truth--i.e. if God says something, it happens. If someone claims that they heard something from God, and it doesn't happen, then it didn't come from God. Fair enough. Further, we looked at Deuteronomy 18:20, "But a prophet who presumes to speak in my name anything I have not commanded him to say, or a prophet who speaks in the name of other gods, must be put to death." (NIV) From this verse we inferred that God doesn't want us to say things such as "The Lord told me . . . " unless He really did tell us something. They used to kill people for using that phrase wrong. As a result, the cessationists tend to discount any kind of "word from the Lord" that people receive outside of the pages of Scripture.

I understand where the cessationists are coming from. Most of the spiritual three ring circuses that I see on television look very little like Christianity and very much like a money-making productions. It also irritates me when people use the phrase "The Lord told me that you should . . . " as a spiritual power play. There is plenty of room for abuse when you grant that the Lord can speak to people in a personal way.

On the other hand, I think they may have thrown the baby out with the bath water. I walked away from seminary thinking that God only reveals himself to us in nature and through the Bible, and that only the elementary truths about God can be gleaned from nature. I am starting to doubt whether this is true. (On a side note, there is just as much room for spiritual abuse in this system. If God is best known through the Bible, then who knows God the best? The guy who knows the Bible best, i.e. the pastor.)

I don't know exactly what it looks like, but I have to believe that God speaks to us in prayer. Christ mysticism was too big a part of Paul's theology, and too big a part of historical Christianity to be illegitmate. On the one hand, that sounds pretty elementary. On the other hand, it is surprising how many people disagree with that or who don't take advantage of it. I have really turned up my prayer life over this past week, and it's amazing what it has done to my perception of God's presence. Further, I have returned to reading Scripture to hear God's voice (rather than just to prepare a sermon) and that has had an impact as well. I am still trying to figure out what it "sounds" like when God speaks to us, and how we can discern His voice from our own, but I am almost convinced that He does speak to us.

I still have a lot to figure out, but I am convinced that there is a legitimate mystical angle to Christianity that I have been missing for the past few years.

Is Tribalism the Next Major Challenge Facing American Evangelicalism?

I had an interesting conversation with some guys in a mens' Bible study this past week that made me think about tribalism in America (and the world). About a year ago, I moved from Dallas, Texas to Gig Harbor, Washington. In the Bible study, I was talking about the differences between the people in Dallas and the people in the Northwest, and the issue of racism came up. People in the northwest don't understand racism and honestly can't comprehend why someone would be prejudiced against someone of another race. During the discussion, we started getting a little holier-than-thou toward racists, and that started to make me upset.

The question that I wanted to ask these guys (but didn't) was, "Why do you think people in the south are racist and we aren't? Is it because they are stupid and we are better than them? Or do you think that there is some kind of sociological phenomenon down there that people in the northwest can't understand or appreciate?" Inevitably if you confront a southerner about racist behavior, they will respond, "It's a southern thing. You wouldn't understand." Why is that?

I think that racism is evil. I believe that it is still a huge problem both in our country and in our churches. However, I don't think it is the problem. I think it is a subset of a bigger problem, and that is tribalism. By tribalism, I mean our tendency to group ourselves with other people who are like us, and to demonize other people who are not like us. I think tribalism is alive and well in just about every sector of America.

In the rural south, tribalism tends to show up as racism. By default, people tend to hang out with other people of their own race, so the races tend to develop particular cultures. Thus one race has one culture, another race has a different culture, and the two races dislike each other. It's tribalism in the form of racism.

In the Pacific Northwest, tribalism does not take the form of racism (as often). When it comes to harmony between people of differing races, the east coast and west coast are night and day. It's amazing. However, just because racism isn't as prevalent doesn't mean that tribalism is absent. Instead of grouping by races, people in the northwest group themselves by other things--education, political affiliation, or socioeconomic class.

Most people have tribalistic tendencies. If you look at your friends, I guarantee that you will see that they are just like you. They may be of varying races, religions, or nationalities, but they probably all talk, think, and act just like you. After all, that's why you're friends. How many homeless friends do you have? If you are in your 20s, how many friends do you have who are in their 60s? How many friends do you have who don't speak English?

While I think that racism is alive and well, I think the problem runs deeper than that. I think that tribalism is going to be the major challenge facing the church in the years to come. In our postmodern culture, we are doing away with the absolutes and focusing instead on the local. We are abandoning metanarratives for tribal truth. But I think there is a danger in this, because metanarratives bring unity. When you abandon the metanarratives, it becomes easier to fall prey to tribalism, to make us/them distinctions, and to demonize the opposition.

How can the church overcome tribalism? I think there are two steps. First, we need to find a unifying metanarrative. Instead of abandoning all metanarratives for local, tribal truth, I think we need to focus on what unites the church--the creeds. The old maxim "In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, diversity; and in all things, charity" is more important now than ever.

Second, we need to be intentional about reaching out to people who are different than us. This means spending time with people of different races, religions, nationalities, and socio-economic classes. We need to learn their stories so that we can appreciate our similarities and differences. Understanding others helps us understand ourselves.

"Father, I thank you for the Gospel of unity. I thank you that you do not show favoritism toward one race or one culture. I thank you for the example that Christ left behind--that He was open and accepting toward people who were different than him. Father, I confess that I haven't always been like that. I gravitate toward people who look and act like me. That kind of behavior is inconsistent with the message that I say I believe. I pray that you would open my eyes when I act like this. I pray that I would learn to be more tolerant of people who are different than me. I pray that I would learn to treat others as people, not just as one of "them." I confess that it is only by the power of Your Holy Spirit that I can live as You intended. Amen."

On Spirituality and "Doing Life Together"

I had a long day yesterday, and then I came across a quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer that really spoke to me about the importance of "doing life" with others in the Christian community. In a sermon called "Forgiveness," Bonhoeffer asked his congregation if there was anyone in their lives whom they needed to forgive--was there anyone with whom they were not speaking, or with whom their last encounter was one of anger. As I was reading the question, I immediately thought, "No, I can't think of anyone." But in the second paragraph of the sermon, Bonhoeffer remarks, "Or would we be so absentminded as to say we can't think of any? Are we so indifferent to others that we don't even really know whether we are at peace or at strife with them?" (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, "On Forgiveness," A Testament to Freedom: the Essential Writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, edited by Geffrey B. Kelly and F. Burton Nelson, rev. ed. [San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1995], 260.)

I love that! Bonhoeffer is such a challenging thinker. I think one of my top character flaws is that I don't take the time to really relate to people. Often, I am so caught up in whatever project I am working on that I don't slow down to listen to people. I am starting to think that that is where life is really lived--in talking and listening to people who care about you.

I found out yesterday that my dad had a procedure done in which doctors discovered a growth in his lower G.I. tract. It's probably nothing, but there is the possibility that it is cancerous. He is only 55 and he is in good health.

It's amazing how life changes when you find out stuff like that. All I could think about was how I wished I could have more time with my family. Just the thought that something might happen to my dad brought me a deep sense of personal loss and regret. It made me ashamed of all of the silly things that I allow to come between me and the people I love.

Also yesterday I had a conversation with someone else that I love who is probably going through the most difficult life event that she has ever faced. Again, she is far away and I haven't seen her in too long. As we talked on the phone, things that seemed very important a few hours before started to seem pretty trivial.

The events of the past 24 hours got me thinking about the way that Jesus "did life" with people. In Mark 5, a synagogue leader named Jairus approached Jesus and asked him to come heal his sick daughter. Before he could get to Jairus' house, the man's daughter died. Some men came from his house and told him to stop bothering Jesus. After all, Jesus was a busy man and had a lot of teaching to do.

But Jesus didn't just leave Jairus to go preach the kingdom of God. He recognized that before him was a man in pain. This guy just lost his little girl, and nothing else in the world mattered to him at that moment. Jesus took the time to go to the guy's house and use his power in a way that reached that one guy, that one day. Further, it's not as if He used this miracle as a mass proof of his spiritual power--the only people who witnessed the miracle were the girl's parents, James, John, and Peter.

I believe that the most important discipline that Americans need to learn is the discipline to slow down and just "do life" with the people around them. We are so caught up in doing whatever it is that we are supposed to be doing at a given time that we let our lives waste away without making meaningful connections with the people in our communities. My prayer today is that God would teach me to slow down.

"Father, I thank you for the community into which you have placed me. I thank you for my family, my pregnant wife, and my friends. I confess that too often I am concerned about the trivial. I treat people as means to various ends. I value people only as much as they can help me. I fail to see the image of God that is in each and every one of them. I pray that you would remind me of the important things in life. I pray that I would see my neighbors as real people, not just as extras in a story that is about me. I thank you for the example that Christ left behind, and I pray that you would work in my life to conform me to Hs pattern of living. Amen."

Is There Spiritual Power in Meditation?

I am still trying to figure out what it means to be "spiritual." I had a thought today while I was reflecting on Paul's letter to the Colossians.

In Colossians 3:16, Paul writes, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly--with wisdom teaching and admonishing each other; with pslams, hymns, and spiritual odes singing in your hearts with grace to God." Without doing an in depth study, I think the second part of that verse elaborates on the first part. Paul calls the Colossians to let the word of Christ dwell in them richly, and then explains to them what that might look like. Now, I think the phrase "word of Christ" probably means "word about Christ," and refers to the Gospel message. Paul didn't have a New Testament, and he probably would have used the Greek graphe if he meant to Old Testament. So he is not concerned about letting the Bible dwell in you richly, but the Gospel message. So the question is, What does it look like for the Gospel to take root in your life and dwell in you richly? He then elaborates.

Its interesting that each of the things that Paul mentions has to do with celebrating the community tradition and how God has acted among His people. First, Paul wanted the Colossians to seek wisdom for teaching and admonishing. He probably wanted the Colossians to devote themselves to the teachings of Christ with which they were familiar--either through written or oral tradition--and to the traditon that Paul himself handed down to them. He probably also wanted them to wrestle with any messages given to the community through the early Christian prophetic movement and the spiritual gift of "wisdom," whatever that is. Second, Paul wanted the Colossians to sing their spiritual songs to God. I may be wrong, but I think these songs probably came from the spiritual heritage of the community, possibly back to the psalms themselves. I don't know.

Regardless, there is value in reflecting on the traditions of the spiritual community that cannot be denied. This made me think of the spiritual discipline of mediation and how that relates to my search for what it means to be "spiritual." Since I am reflecting on Colossians, I thought I would find a passage in that book to memorize and review. I chose Colossians 3:12–17, "Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, the affection of compassion, benevolence, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving each other if someone has a grievance against another. As the Lord forgave you, so also you should forgive. Upon all of these things add love, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ rule in your heart, into which you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly--with all wisdom teaching and admonishing each other, with psalms, hymns, and odes singing in your hearts with grace to God. And whatever you do, by word or by deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God through Him."

I am going to meditate on this passage for a while. Paul emphasized faithfulness to the Gospel traditon so much that I wonder if he recognized some kind of spiritual power in this tradition. We'll see.

Christian Spirituality

I'm back. Sorry I was gone so long.

What does it mean to be "spiritual"? What does it look like? What does it feel like? When we talk about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, what on earth do we mean? I know that I have a personal relationship with my wife, but my relationship with God is nothing like that. I know the phrase "personal relationship" when referring to spirituality is simply a metaphor, but sometimes it seems like a pretty meaningless metaphor. I see very little "personal" about my relationship with God.

I am in the middle of a sermon series at Believers Fellowship call Roots: Understanding our Spiritual Heritage, in which we have been going through the Book of Colossians. I have been very excited about it because it has helped me clarify the role that the Scriptures play in my faith story. Throughout Colossians, Paul reminds his readers that they are not alone in this thing called Christianity--that they have inherited a tradition passed down from Paul and the other apostles. He criticizes them for being unfaithful to this tradition, as if they were trying to change the plot of the story halfway through (that's a party foul). Studying Colossians has really affirmed to me that there were historical men--Jesus, Paul, Peter, John, etc.--who had radical views of what God was doing with humanity. By calling myself a "Christian," I am claiming to be a student of these ways of looking at the world. There are limits to ways in which I can interpret the world and still be faithful to this tradition and thus call myself a "Christian." Good stuff.

One of the things that we have been looking at in Roots is "spiritual transformation." I believe that Paul viewed the world as two ages--the present age and the age to come. The resurrection of Jesus inaugurated the age to come, but it will not be consummated until His return. Thus, followers of Jesus always live in this tension between "already being radically renewed" and "not yet being completely renewed."

I can deal with the "not yet" part of Christianity. I realize that God has a lot of work left to do in the world and that we are not experiencing the kingdom as He intended. But the "already" part has been perplexing me. In Romans 8:9, Paul writes "But you are not in the flesh, you are in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Any one who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him" (RSV). About this verse, James Dunn writes, "The fact that was immediately discernible was not whether they were Christ's--attested by baptism or confession--a fact from which their possession of the Spirit could be deduced as a corollary. That which was ascertainable was their possession of the Spirit; that was the primary factor from which their relation to Christ could be deduced. Their Christian status was recognizable from the fact that Christ's agent was in evident control of their lives" (James Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle [Grand Rapids: Eerdman's, 1998], 430). Dunn essentially says that people didn't know that they had the Spirit because they were Christians, but they knew they were Christians because they possessed the Spirit. The power of the Holy Spirit was so obvious in their lives that it could be used as evidence for their being in "the age to come."

That bothers me. It bothers me because I do not see the Holy Spirit working in my life in a way that makes me say "of course the Gospel is true; how else could I explain all of these changes?" Further, I don't see that kind of power in most Christians that I meet.
So, I am off to find out what it means to be spiritual. I feel that the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of the original Christians was the major evidence for the truth of the Gospel. I want to reclaim that. Further, I am not interested in a series of proof texts or books on ten easy steps to spiritual bliss. I have read all of those and they don't work. I am going to use the Scriptures as a starting point to help me discern the kinds of things that the Spirit does in the lives of believers (i.e. I don't think it makes people bark like dogs or laugh uncontrollably), but ultimately I am not going to be satisfied with a biblical doctrine of what the Spirit should do, but rather an existential description of what He is doing. I am really not interested in more theories or quick fixes at this point.

I am going to start by studying the letters of Paul, reading Gordon Fee's God's Empowering Presence: The Holy Spirit in the Letters of Paul and by returning to some classic spiritual disciplines of the Christian faith, especially as outlined in the works of Dallas Willard, Richard Foster, and others. I will keep you updated on what I find out.

Brickworld, Trampolines, and the Communion of the Saints

I am reading a great book right now, New Testament Theology: Communion and Community by Philip Esler. I am only about 70 pages into it, but he seems to tackle a question that I have been thinking about for a long time--What role does New Testament theology play in emergent Christianity?

Why have I been asking this question? Well, I recently read Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis, a book that that is becoming increasingly popular in Evangelical churches. Bell's ideas aren't that innovative, but he has packaged them in a way that is brilliantly accessible to the general public. Bell is an excellent communicator. That, coupled with the success of the Nooma video shorts based on his teaching, has done much to advance his flavor of emerging Christianity.

I liked Velvet Elvis. I appreciate Rob Bell's vulnerability and willingness to consider ideas that push the envelope in American Evangelicalism. However, part of the book left a bad taste in my mouth. In the first chapter, Bell contrasts his (post-modern) take on Christianity with the mainstream (modern) American Evangelical view. He notes that most American Evangelicals view Christianity as "brickworld"--a system of theological suppositions stacked upon each other. According to the illustration, if the supporting brick beliefs are compromised, the entire structure collapses. In my opinion, this is a fair critique of most American Evangelicals--they do think like that.

Instead of Christianity as "brickworld," Bell suggests that perhaps we should view it as a trampoline, with the great doctrines of that faith represented by springs rather than bricks. In a trampoline, the springs aren't the point, but they enable the point (jumping). In Christianity, beliefs aren't the point, but they enable the point (following Jesus).

Now, I understand what Rob Bell is getting at. He's not saying that beliefs aren't important. He's not even saying that orthodox beliefs aren't important. He's just saying that we overemphasize beliefs over following Jesus. I agree with Rob Bell's thesis that (in most issues) we should never be content with answers--we should always ask more questions. However, there is a subtle aspect of the illustration that makes me a bit uncomfortable.

In the trampoline illustration, the "springiness" of the springs is open-mindedness with regard to doctrines. The more wiggle room that you have in your beliefs, the "springier" that your faith will be, and the higher you will be able to jump. To me, this implies that open-mindedness is in itself a virtue. Thus, the person who says "I don't know what I believe about Jesus, but I am following Him" is more virtuous than the person who says "I believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and I am following Him." I am pretty sure that Jesus Himself with disagree with that notion. A simple reading of the Gospel according to John reveals that Jesus cared a lot about what people believed about Him.

Now, don't mistake me for dogmatic. I'm not suggesting that I have 100% knowledge of all things Christian or that I am not mistaken in any of my beliefs. I'm not that naive. Further, I will always evaluate most my beliefs. But I don't think that it is appropriate to equate open-mindedness with spirituality. There are some issues that you cannot question and call yourself a Christian. (Right now, I might limit that list to the deity of Christ, the resurrection of Jesus, and the Trinity. Then again, I reserve the right to change my mind.)

So what does all of this have to do with Esler's book? I'm getting there.

In his book, Esler argues that Christianity is largely a faith of communion and community (thus the title of his book). I couldn't agree more. Further, he argues that our community is not just with those who are like us. The communion of the saints is cross-cultural. Again, I couldn't agree more. Further still, he argues that one way that the communion of the saints is cross-cultural is that it is cross-temporal. Very nice! The 21st century is the latest scene in the cosmic drama of rebellion and reconciliation, but it is not the first. Our faith is one of communion with those who walk with us, and with those who have walked before us.

Now, I have yet to see where Esler is going with this, but I know where I would go. In a sense, Jesus and his followers started the story (or at least inaugurated a massive turning-point in the story), and recorded their thoughts on what the story was about in what we call the New Testament. Further, most Christians would agree that these thoughts in some shape or form were inspired by God (whatever that might mean). I think we can know and understand these thoughts through critical study of the Bible. Granted, we will never understand with 100% certainty what the writers of the New Testament were trying to communicate, but we can still understand it with enough certainty to say that we "know" what they meant. (In the same way, I can't understand with 100% certainty that a red light means "stop," but I usually stop anyway.)

What does all of this mean for brickworld and the trampoline? Well, to the extent that your faith resembles that of those who started the story, you are in communion with the saints. When your beliefs deviate from orthodoxy, you have broken communion with the saints. Because controversy remains with regard to biblical interpretation, there will always be a little "spring" to the faith. But if you stretch the springs too far, they break. That's when the trampoline is no longer any fun.

We can't know the teachings of Jesus 100%, but we can know it well enough. With that as our starting point, we can begin to build a trampoline that will be able to support the weight of the church.

Awaiting Redemption and "Spiritual Remorse"

It's often said in the circle that I grew up in that Satan attacks you the most right after a spiritual victory. The idea is often attributed to Charles Spurgeon, but I am not sure if it really goes back to him. True to the observation--times of spiritual lows often follow on the tail of spiritual victories. However, I have an alternate explanation as to why this might be based on my own experience--what I call "spiritual remorse."

Have you ever seen something in a store that you just "had to have"? I get this feeling mostly from books and music, and sometimes I succumb to the temptation to buy on impulse. Usually I feel bad about it afterward--a classic case of "buyer's remorse." But that's how things work. How often to we plan and save for some item--be it a house, a car, a stereo, whatever--with eager anticipation, only to experience buyer's remorse when we have pulled the trigger on the purchase? I think we've all felt that way before.

But the empty feeling accompanying buyer's remorse isn't limited to gathering material things. It also accompanies major life events. I remember thinking that once I graduated from high school, life would be good. Then it was college. Then it was getting married. Now it's getting a house. I keep setting goals, thinking that accomplishing these goals will make me happy. But they never do. (Granted, these things usually give a temporary sense of happiness, but it isn't lasting, just like that new car feels good for a little while and then loses its luster.)

My latest experience of let down has been related to graduating from seminary and moving to Washington. For six years, my wife and I longed for that day when I would be done with school. We hoped and prayed that we would be able to get a job in Washington, thinking that then we would be truly happy. So here I am, in Washington, with a great job and everything we wanted, yet I am not content. I hoped for this for so long and now that I have it, I don't know what to do.

Here is why I think this happens to us: because of the Fall we will never be truly content. God created us to enjoy a supernatural peace--what the Hebrews called shalom. Because of our rebellion against God, we will never experience (fully) the shalom that God created us to enjoy. That's why Paul says that we "groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." (Rom 8:23 NIV) When we try to find fulfillment in possessions, career, relationships, or accolades, we are destined to be let down. Only God can give us the satisfaction (the shalom) that we desperately desire.

However, part of awaiting redemption is that we will never completely experience God's shalom in this life. We will experience genuine shalom, but not complete shalom. There will always be a part of us that yearns for the future kingdom of God. I wonder if this is why often we experience a spiritual let down after a spiritual victory. I wonder if it is kind of a "spiritual remorse." Just like we experience buyer's remorse when a possession doesn't satisfy us the way we thought it would, I wonder if we experience "spiritual remorse" because our spiritual experiences don't satisfy us the way they ought to. No spiritual experience this side of the kingdom of God can fully satisfy our need for shalom. Just a thought . . .

So what does that mean for us? Is there any way to be happy? I agree with the author of Ecclesiastes, "However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all. But let him remember the days of darkness, for they will be many. Everything to come is meaningless. Be happy, young man, while you are young, and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see, but know for all of these things God will bring you into judgment." (Ecc 11:8–9) In Christ, we can experience the joys of the kingdom in part--and we should--but there will always be a part of us that yearns for more and will be disappointed until we are renewed.

"I believe in the kingdom come, then all the colors will bleed into one (bleed into one), but yes I'm still running. You broke the bonds and you loosed the chains, carried the cross of my shame (of my shame), you know I believe it. But I still haven't found what I'm looking for." (U2, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For.")